


Midriff

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Episode: s02e10 Mirror Mirror, F/M, Mirror Universe, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Uhura questions the sexy mirror uniforms.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Midriff

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Set during the “Mirror, Mirror” episode.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The bridge looks almost exactly the same, and yet it feels so _wrong_ , not just for the jarring uniforms. Jim can sense the subtle hum of the engines beneath the deck plates, but it’s as if they’re singing on a different frequency. There is no pleasant banter, no quick smiles, just devious smirks and heated glares. The only one left he has any faith in is Uhura. 

He diverts there when he needs a breather. Commanding a ship of violent monsters is a vile business, something that eats away at him with every passing second. On his own ship, he _loves_ command. Not here. Not in this place. He circles back behind the railing and seeks out the comfort of a fellow being still grasping their humanity. 

He leans over Uhura’s shoulder, pretending to examine her station, and quietly asks, “How are you holding up, Lieutenant?” He doesn’t use any of the buzzwords, even though he’s making sure his voice won’t carry. They can never be too careful.

“Fine, Sir,” she answers, just as hushed. She’s an intelligent officer—she understands. She’s compassionate and empathetic, and she probably senses that he wants a reason to stay. So she continues the conversation, murmuring, “I just can’t seem to get used to these hyper-sexualized uniforms...”

Jim clicks his tongue in a note of sympathy. That was a strange shock when they first stepped off the platform. He tells her, “I’m sorry, Uhura. You’ll just have to keep your chair turned around to hide your midsection.”

“I meant _you_ , Captain.” Her eyes flicker up to him, dark and heavy, her lashes ridiculously thick and long. She’s a beautiful woman, something he usually tries not to notice, but it becomes harder when she tells him, “It’s just... so hard not to look. Seeing your chest exposed like that, and the way your tunic wraps around itself, as though it could simply fall open at any moment... not to mention your bare arms. It’s downright indecent for the captain to show so much skin. How’s a woman supposed to work when she can see her captain’s biceps?”

Jim opens and closes his mouth, truly at a lost for words. He can see _her_ biceps, and she looks stronger than him. She adds, “And these sashes... what are they even for? I can’t shake the feeling that the people here use them as leashes—I can’t think of any other purpose than to grab someone by it and pull them close.”

Jim might’ve had the same thought, but he never planned on sharing it. She gives him a helpless look, as though to apologize for her lingering gaze. It gives him a strange comfort, knowing she’s not so worried about her own overly exposed figure. 

He catches movement in his peripheral. It’s just Spock shifting at his console. But it’s enough to remind Jim that he has to remain alert. He should withdraw and return to his chair. 

He sighs to his communications officer, “Enjoy the view while you can, Lieutenant.”

Uhura stifles a grin, chiming, “Yes, Captain.”

With a curt not, Jim goes back to running the I.S.S. Enterprise.


End file.
